Need You Now
by brionyjae
Summary: Sometimes, Jack and Ianto just need each other. Part I: Set after 1x06 "Countrycide"; Part II: Set after 1x10 "Out Of Time". Inspired by Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now". Janto fluff and comfort!
1. Part I: Countrycide

**A/N: **My first Torchwood fic! :) I have fallen in love with this show, so expect more from me. Janto is too adorable to resist! :D I don't own Torchwood etc. unfortunately. This story is inspired by Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now" song, which I also don't own. Beautiful song! There are two parts. **Part I** takes place after 1x06 "Countrycide". Enjoy! :)

I also highly recommend viewing this fanvid made by the AWESOME **Angelustatt** to accompany this fic! You can find it http: / /www .youtube. com/ watch? v= 4bthhEPrSWE (just remove the spaces!) It is fit to the song, and it absolutely brilliant! You won't regret it :)

* * *

_**Need You Now: Part I  
**_

_Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor  
Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore  
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
For me it happens all the time_

Jack drove them all back to the Hub, the only one that was really fit to drive anyway. Ianto was dimly aware of Owen sitting next to him, in the middle, because he'd insisted on keeping Gwen and Ianto in the back with him to 'watch over them'. They'd all been bundled in with blankets to keep them warm.

The blanket was scratchy against his skin.

He turned away from Gwen and Owen's clasped hands, and surrendered himself to watching the countryside blur into an inenarrable mess. Carefully avoiding Jack's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

They didn't stay at the Hub very long. Ianto was told to stay in the car, along with Tosh, while Jack went in briefly. Owen gave him a light squeeze on the shoulder before leaving with Gwen. Ianto watched them drive away, swallowing thickly in the sudden silence in the SUV.

"Ianto?" Tosh turned around in the front seat. Ianto forced himself to look at her, and saw concern in her eyes, thinly veiling a shadow of horror. He wondered if it would ever disappear. He wondered what his own eyes looked like.

Ianto cleared his throat.

"How are you feeling, Tosh? You look like you took some rough blows." He made a genuine attempt at smiling, but suspected he only managed a grimace.

"Nothing some rest won't cure," Tosh replied, with that little cautious smile of hers. "Are you – are you okay?" she asked softly. Something inside of Ianto twisted coldly, and he suppressed a shudder.

It was just too much. It was like he'd said. Who protected them? Who protected them when they were captured by – by _cannibals_ – and were inches away from being hung on meat hooks? Who protected them when they were about to be chopped to pieces and eaten?

Ianto couldn't answer Tosh, just looked down at his feet. On the floor of the SUV there was an old coke bottle and several chocolate wrappers scattered. He'd have to clean them up.

In under five minutes, Jack returned with a map to each of their houses.

"Don't worry about your cars, they'll be safe here." Ianto wanted to retort that they'd thought the SUV would be safe at their campsite, and it hadn't, but somehow he couldn't muster the energy.

"Take Tosh home first," was what he did manage to get out, catching Jack's eyes in the rear-view mirror this time as he spoke. Their gazes were locked, just for a second, before Ianto ripped his eyes away to stare, unfocused, out of the window again.

The drive to Tosh's seemed to go by in a second. Jack opened Tosh's door for her, and Tosh came over to the car window by Ianto.

"Take care, Ianto," she said quietly. Ianto simply nodded in reply, swallowing past a permanent lump lodged in his throat. Jack walked her to her door, embraced her, and then strode back to the SUV.

"Won't be long, Ianto," he said. "You don't live far away from Tosh, did you know?"

He didn't know. But that wasn't really true, because he was hardly ever at his apartment. With Lisa... he'd been in the basement mostly, only venturing out to get food. And after Lisa... the archives. There was a lot that needed filing, after all. And the whole system had been screwed up to begin with. How Jack had ended up in charge of it, Ianto was at a loss.

Ianto was jolted out of his reverie by Jack's car door slamming shut. They were there. Ianto slid the blanket off his shoulders. Jack opened Ianto's door, paused a second, and offered a hand to help Ianto out. Ianto held his breath and reached out to take it. Jack's warm fingers gripped Ianto's cold ones tightly, and he gently pulled Ianto out of the SUV.

He stumbled slightly over his feet, as if they had forgotten how to work. Ianto bit back a curse, but before he could steady himself, strong arms wrapped around Ianto's waist, effectively holding Ianto upright.

Jack. Of course.

"I can manage, sir," Ianto mumbled, closing his eyes against his headache. Owen had given him something for the pain. It didn't seem to be doing much. However, closing his eyes proved to be a very bad idea. The darkness pressed in on him, just like when he'd had his head covered with that bloody sack – he could feel the scratchy material against his skin – and he couldn't breathe. He tore his eyes open and took a few deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it. A difficult task when his chest was so close against Jack's, but Ianto tried nonetheless.

"Ianto?" Ianto kept his eyes on Jack's coat buttons, standing straight and stiff in Jack's arms. "Ianto, look at me."

A pause.

Jack raised one hand to gently lift Ianto's chin, so that he was looking at Jack.

"Do you... do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

A wave of helplessness swept through Ianto, nearly allowing himself to say yes. It was so tempting. There was no way he wanted to be alone tonight – and yet. He couldn't. He didn't need Jack to discover even more of Ianto's weaknesses... there had been quite enough of them exposed lately. Besides, Tosh hadn't needed Jack to stay – Gwen hadn't even needed Jack to drive her home.

He had to be strong.

"No thanks sir, I'm just fine."

Jack stared at Ianto as if he hadn't even spoken, and Ianto was unconsciously drawn back to Jack's earlier stare, after Gwen had began asking them all who their last snog had been. He'd answered Lisa, only to receive an intense, deathly stare from Jack. If he was referring to the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation... well.

Ianto cleared his throat. Jack tightened his grip around Ianto ever so slightly.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow sir?" Ianto raised an eyebrow. Trying to convince Jack that he was fine, was his normal self. Convince himself.

Jack blinked, and answered,

"I've given everyone the day off tomorrow. Give you time to rest." _To recover_.

It would take more than a day, Ianto was sure of that.

"Right, sir," Ianto avoided letting a tremor slip into his voice. "Well, if that's all..."

_Please Jack, don't listen to me. Don't let me go into my flat alone. Don't leave me._

Jack sighed imperceptibly, and let his arms drop their hold on Ianto, fingertips brushing Ianto's sides as they fell.

"Let me walk you to your door." The concern in Jack's voice was sincere, and somehow, Ianto let himself be lead across the road, across the pavement, up his front steps. When they were standing at his door, however, Ianto realised that he didn't know where his keys were.

"Uh... I don't know where my keys are..." Ianto looked at Jack, biting his lip, but Jack grinned and reached into his pocket.

"Here. You left them at the Hub." Jack dropped them into Ianto's waiting palm, and he turned to unlock his door. He pushed it open a foot – it was completely black inside. Ianto swallowed past a lump and looked over his shoulder at Jack.

"Thank you for the ride home sir."

Jack fixed Ianto with _that_ stare again, and Ianto was filled with the desire to – he didn't know what. Do _something_ to stop Jack from concentrating so deeply on Ianto. Acting as if Ianto was all he cared about, at that moment. Because it was all just too much – he couldn't handle it – didn't want to. But – at the same time, he didn't want Jack to stop. He needed Jack to not stop. The indecision tore at Ianto, wrung itself out inside of him.

_Come in with me Jack._

But Jack found his answer to his unspoken question in Ianto's hesitation, and Jack broke their eye contact.

"Okay then. I'll be at the Hub, call me if you need me."

"I won't," Ianto injected a cheerful, near mechanical note into the words.

"Good night, Ianto," he said softly. Ianto nodded, holding back a choking breath, and managed a smile in farewell. Jack turned, returned to the SUV, and without deliberating upon it Ianto quickly pushed his way into his apartment and slammed the door shut behind him.

It seemed even darker without the street lamps to guide Ianto. He actually squeezed his eyes shut and fumbled for the light switch. Opening his eyes, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief to find his apartment exactly as he had left it. Less than 24 hours ago. It felt... like much longer. He robotically slipped off his shoes, and bent down to set them beside the neat row of his other shoes, by the door.

Refusing to remember the haphazard pile of shoes down in the cell.

God, he wanted a shower. The hot water would probably do him good. He straightened up and winced as the aching muscles stretched. Perhaps not – he could just feel his bruises and cuts burning painfully at the thought. But he couldn't sleep in this grimy state. If he had any chance of sleeping at all, that was.

He definitely wasn't hungry either.

Maybe coffee would make him feel better. Coffee _always_ made him feel better.

Right. Coffee first, shower after.

Ianto washed his hands before fetching his coffee beans from the cupboard. Prepared his coffee machine, and then turned to get the milk.

Out of the fridge.

Ianto froze, his hand inches away from the fridge handle. Quickly swallowed the rising bile in his throat, face twisting into a grimace. Stop being stupid. It was just a fridge, with... perfectly normal food in it.

Ianto flexed his outstretched fingers into a fist, and lowered his arm.

Skip the coffee then.

For once, he left his kitchen as it was, and strode straight into his bathroom. Ianto flicked the hot water on, and braced himself against his sink, in front of the mirror, looking for the first time at his appearance.

Ianto caught his breath at the sight of his face, so quickly fixed his gaze on something else. His clothes were ruined – well, they'd need dry cleaning, at least. Blood stains were the hardest to get out, once they had soaked in. Slowly, Ianto brought his eyes up to his face, and let out the breath he'd been holding.

It could have been worse. Bruise or two on his cheekbones. Lump and a cut, now patched up courtesy of Owen, on his forehead where – where _he_ had bashed him with the butt of the rifle. Ianto's fingers trembled as he brought them up to touch it, and hissed quietly when he did. Okay, bad idea. He lowered his fingers to his nose, where _he_ had blocked his airway. Gagged him. The flashes of memory whipped around Ianto – he could feel the metal blade stroking his chin – taste the dirty material in his mouth. And his own blood.

Ianto choked back a sob and wrenched away from the sink. He roughly turned the shower off again and swallowed against the returning bile, and panic, inside of him. He needed to calm the hell down. He swept out of the bathroom into his living room, and began pacing around the small area.

It wasn't enough. He felt frantic – like there was something he should be doing – like he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He shoved his still shaking hands into his pockets, and flinched as one hand brushed again something. His cell phone.

Pulling it out, Ianto took an unsteady breath and bit his lip. He said he wouldn't call. He said he'd be fine. Ianto nearly laughed – fine. Yeah. Right.

Jack would be back at the Hub by now. There was no way he'd want to drive out all this way again.

He couldn't call.

Ianto swore.

He couldn't.

He tapped over his contacts, down to Jack. It was weird. Jack was 'sir', or at the very least, Captain Jack Harkness. But... on his cell phone, it was Jack. Just Jack.

Ianto, not quite able to believe he was about to do this, pursed his lips and firmly pressed the call button.

Oh god oh god oh god. Ringing echoed loudly in his ear, but only for a short second – Ianto's ear was then filled with a warm, familiar voice.

"Ianto?"

"Jack," Ianto replied, shoulders slumping slightly. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes briefly.

"Are you okay? What do you need?" Once again, Jack's concern was evident.

"I need –" Ianto bit back the automatic response threatening to spill out.

_You. I need you, Jack._

"– you to leave the camping gear just outside the Archives. I need to make sure all of the pieces are there before I put them back away. And can you please make sure the instruction manuals are there too? I think Owen through them somewhere. And –"

"Ianto?" Jack's soft voice interrupted Ianto's babbling, and he clenched his teeth together, feeling an angry, embarrassed flush heat his neck. Great. He knew this had been a bad idea. "Ianto, are... are you okay?"

"I..." he forced out. He had to fix this, place back his mask. "I –" A choking gasp of air cut Ianto off, and he shut his mouth again.

"Ianto. What do you need?" Jack was doing it again – he _cared._ He really cared. Something inside of Ianto slipped and shattered, and words rushed out in a half sob.

"I need _you_, Jack."

"Already on my way," Jack replied, and Ianto could hear a car engine revving in the background as confirmation. "I'll be ten minutes, tops. Ianto?" Jack paused. "Stay on the phone with me, okay? You're going to be alright."

Ianto nodded numbly, barely realising that Jack couldn't see him. He blinked, shoving back a sudden onslaught of tears, brought on by this – this shattering. By Jack. He needed something to occupy his brain until Jack arrived. He had to keep it together until then. Ianto strode into his kitchen, clutching the phone tightly to his ear.

"Ianto? You still there?"

"Yes." Ianto cast his eyes over his half prepared coffee machine, and then turned to the fridge. Okay. "I need to clean out my fridge." Ianto scrubbed his knuckles over his dry eyes and stood staring at the offending object.

"Okay," Jack said after a long pause. Ianto snorted humourlessly, knowing how crazy he must sound. Ignoring the gentle understanding in Jack's tone.

Ianto reached out a hand, wrapped it around the fridge handle securely. This was not going to beat him. In one fluid motion, he threw the door open, gripping the phone so tightly he feared it would break.

The shelves were stacked with normal, unopened food. He pulled out a container at random, glanced at the expiry date. Long gone. Swallowing, Ianto took out another – expired.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ianto bit out, frantically sorting through the shelves.

"Ianto? Hey, talk to me! What's wrong?"

"It's all rotten!" he roared, making himself jump, and furiously swiped a hand across one of the shelves, sending items showering to the kitchen floor. Biting his bottom lip and holding his breath in case a sob overcame him, Ianto sank to the floor as well and shuffled over to the corner of the kitchen.

"I'm nearly at your place, Ianto. Just hold on, please!" Jack's voice was strained, or was it just that Ianto's now slack hand was drifting the phone away from his ear? Then his phone slipped right between his fingers and hit the floor with a metallic clatter. Ianto ignored Jack's worried voice and drew his knees closer to his chest.

* * *

_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now  
Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now  
And I don't know how I can do without  
I just need you now_

"Ianto? Ianto! You still there? Hey, speak to me!" Jack frowned, forehead creasing, when he received no answer. He squarely set his jaw and pushed harder on the SUV's accelerator.

Jack's instincts had told him not to leave Ianto alone tonight, but had he listened? Hell, Ianto had received the worst of any of them today. Even worse than Gwen's gunshot wound... Ianto had the mental scarring, ten times as painful as any bullet. Jack was unfortunately an expert in that particular area.

He should never have suggested for Ianto to join them, on their 'camping outing'. Jack thought that it would be good for him, to get out of the Hub, see some daylight – he hadn't been out much at all since... the incident. But this... this was Jack's fault.

It was definitely a good idea to give Ianto some proper field training after this. Despite his anxiety for Ianto, Jack felt a thrill of excitement and grinned softly at the thought – teaching someone as hot as Ianto to use firearms would unquestionably be a fun way to spend an afternoon – or evening. Or both.

Jack had given up trying to get a response from Ianto, and was simply concentrating on driving as fast and as safely as possible. Ianto had sounded much worse on the phone than he had when Jack had dropped him off home. He had such a careful, practiced mask... and it seemed like it had finally fallen.

A short sigh of relief escaped Jack when he turned the corner into Ianto's street. He screeched to a halt on the side of the road, and was out of the SUV barely before he'd turned the engine off. Sprinted across the road, leapt up the stairs.

"Ianto! It's me!" Jack knocked loudly, not particularly caring if he woke any neighbours up. Silence met him. "Hey! Open up!" He started banging harder.

After several more seconds, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a copy of Ianto's key. Torchwood policy... just in case. He slid it into the lock carefully, and pushed open Ianto's door. The lights were on, which was a good sign. He slammed the door shut behind him, striding quickly into the apartment.

"Ianto?" he called, quieter now, but no less urgently. Oh god, where was he? Not in the living room... he looked to his left, into the kitchen, and a good part of his heart broke.

Ianto, the gorgeous Welshman, who was so meticulous in the way he cleared up after the team, and kept everything running smoothly, was curled up in the corner of his kitchen, sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of fallen food. Some had split open and had leaked onto the tiles, but Ianto, for once, didn't seem to notice. He was staring blankly at nothing – Jack didn't even know if Ianto had seen him.

"Ianto," Jack whispered – he couldn't manage anything louder – and was crouched on the floor next to him in less than a second. Ianto blinked and looked at him, and Jack stared into his anguished eyes.

"Jack. You're here." His voice cracked with unshed tears, thickening his accent.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Jack promised him, and slung an arm around Ianto's shoulders. "Come on, what do you say to a nice hot shower?"

"It'll hurt," Ianto mumbled, closing his eyes. Jack could feel tremors running through Ianto's body, and pressed himself closer to him.

"You'll feel a load better afterwards though. And you'll be clean – you like clean!" Jack gently persuaded him, and Ianto slowly nodded – or at least, Jack thought he did – leaning unconsciously into Jack's neck. "Come on, on your feet."

Jack half lifted Ianto to his feet, and led him out of the kitchen. Luckily, the layout of the apartment was pretty logical, and he steered Ianto into his bathroom. He flicked the hot water on, and turned back to Ianto.

Ianto was still standing there, frozen, miserably looking at Jack. He didn't look like he was going to say anything – looked like he couldn't – and so Jack gave him a reassuring smile, before starting to unbutton his bloody shirt. He cleared his throat conspicuously as he smoothed his hands up Ianto's chest, to his shoulders, to slip the shirt gently to the floor. Jack noticed the bruising around Ianto's ribs, and frowned.

"You should have had Owen take a look at this."

"S'okay, it not that bad," Ianto muttered indistinctly.

Jack sighed, and couldn't resist running his fingers back down Ianto's sides, avoiding the bruises, and rest on his hips, just above Ianto's belt. He bit his lip and moved determinedly to Ianto's belt clasp, but before he could start undoing it, Ianto suddenly grabbed his arm.

"It's okay, I can do it." Jack cleared his throat again and took a step back, and Ianto awkwardly undid his belt, and pushed his trousers down to the floor. Grimaced as he straightened back up. Jack tried to focus on the task at hand, despite letting his eyes roam over Ianto's naked torso, and his boxer clad bottom-half. God, his ass looked even better than in those suits of his, Jack grinned inwardly. He returned his eyes to Ianto's face, and his amusement vanished. Ianto's face was paler, his jaw set firmly.

"Alright, into the shower," Jack gently helped Ianto under the stream of hot water, feeling something inside of him wrench. This was his fault. The effect of the water was instantaneous on Ianto; he hissed and screwed his eyes shut.

"Jack. It hurts," he bit out, and Jack looked around wildly.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'll – I'll turn down the heat. Here, I –" Jack cut himself off when he realised the Welshman was just standing there, trembling, eyes shut, face twisted with pain.

Right. Given the circumstances... well, Jack had earned a shower himself anyway.

Jack quickly stripped, mixing his clothes into a pile with Ianto's, and stepped carefully into the shower. He stood behind Ianto, and gathered some soap between his hands, and started massaging it into Ianto's back. Ianto jumped violently at Jack's first touch, and took a sharp breath.

"Sir? Erm, what –"

"Do you think you could drop the 'sir' now?" Jack said, with a small smile playing on his lips. He could imagine Ianto's blush.

"... Jack. What... what are you doing, exactly?"

"Just shush, and relax," Jack soothed, rubbing his hands softly over Ianto's skin. The idea of Ianto hurt, and Jack being responsible, kept Jack's mind clear, and he dedicated his energy to cleaning Ianto – to healing him. Ianto's occasional hisses of pain alerted him to press lighter, and for the most part, the younger man's eyes stayed closed. Which also made things easier.

After washing Ianto, Jack gave himself a quick soap over, and then turned off the water. Ianto stood there, hair dripping into his eyes, and Jack smiled despite his worry.

"There. Much better."

Ianto didn't answer, but started shivering slightly, goose bumps rising over his skin. Right, towels.

"Ianto, where do you keep your towels?"

"Cupboard in the hall, first on the left."

Jack climbed out of the shower and fetched a towel for Ianto, and wrapped another around himself. He handed the other to Ianto, who took it gratefully.

"Bedroom?"

Ianto inclined his head as a reply, and after an apparent internal debate, stretched his hand out tentatively. Jack grinned and took it immediately in his own, fitting the spaces between Ianto's fingers perfectly. They walked to Ianto's bedroom and turned the light on. It was just how Jack could have imagined – neat, simple. Double bed – handy.

"Would you like me to give you some privacy?"

"I bet that's the first time you've ever asked that before," Ianto quipped with a half smile, and Jack smiled back. The shower seemed to have done some good.

"I'll just go and get a spare change of clothes from the SUV. I'll be two seconds," Jack promised, as the tiniest shadows of panic flew over Ianto's face. "Get yourself dry and warm."

Jack jogged back through Ianto's apartment and outside, not caring in the slightest if anyone saw him, half naked, at two in the morning. Not that anyone was outside at that time anyway. Jack scrounged around for a casual t-shirt and a pair of pants in the boot – he never knew when he was going to need them. Ran back inside, pulled the clothes on. Glanced into the kitchen at the food – he'd clean that up later, when Ianto was asleep, perhaps. He strode straight past and into to Ianto's room. Ianto had got changed as well, wearing the same casual attire as Jack. He was briefly distracted – God, was there anything he didn't look good in?

However, at the moment, Ianto was looking very small. He was sitting cross legged on his bed, arms unconsciously folded into himself, and staring at Jack. Jack saw that just in the time it had taken for him to dash outside, Ianto had... well. Jack crossed the room and enveloped Ianto in his arms.

"Come on, let's get you warm," Jack murmured in Ianto's ear, and he let Ianto crawl underneath the blankets of his bed.

"Jack? I –" Ianto cleared his throat, not meeting Jack's eyes. "I'd like for you to stay, if..."

"Wasn't planning on leaving," Jack smiled, and slid under the blankets too. He could feel Ianto's body heat from the shower radiating off, but Ianto was also shaking ever so imperceptibly. Seeing as Jack had never been one to keep to the rules between a boss and an employee, Jack slowly, so as not to startle Ianto, shuffled closer and delicately wrapped an arm around Ianto's waist.

Ianto let out a deep breath, relaxing into Jack, breathing with him. Jack was breathing in Ianto's scent, closing his eyes to enjoy it. Ianto gave a more violent shiver, and Jack held onto him tighter. He had to help make this right – help Ianto heal.

* * *

Somewhere in a state between being awake and dreaming, Ianto pressed himself even closer to Jack, miles beyond caring. He didn't know if he was going to be able to sleep well tonight – or tomorrow night – but that didn't matter right now. All that mattered... was that he had Jack.

He needed Jack.

"Jack?" he murmured.

"Yeah?" the breathy reply came in his ear, and Ianto shivered again, this time not from shock or cold.

"I... I'm glad you're here."

Jack pressed his lips lightly against the nape of Ianto's neck.

"Me too."

* * *

**-End.** Hope you liked it! :) Let me know what you thought of it.


	2. Part II: Out Of Time

**A/N: **Sorry about the wait, had mid-term tests, bleh! Still inspired by "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum - and I'm so stoked that some of you actually downloaded the album! It's an awesome song, I could listen to it on repeat for ages (in fact, that's what I did to write this, haha). Thanks for all the reviews for Part I. Now for the final part, **Part II**, which takes place after 1x10 "Out Of Time". I definitely have more Torchwood ideas, so this will not be that last you hear from me -winks- Enjoy! :)

I also highly recommend viewing this fanvid made by the AWESOME **Angelustatt** to accompany this fic! You can find it http: / /www .youtube. com/ watch? v= 4bthhEPrSWE (just remove the spaces!) It is fit to the song, and it absolutely brilliant! You won't regret it :)

* * *

_**Need You Now (Part II)**_

_Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door  
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before  
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
For me it happens all the time_

Gasp.

Hands flailing.

Cold.

Jack's eyes flew open as the air shoved itself into his lungs. He started coughing, fighting it, for a moment not seeing anything but a haze. Blinked. Realised it was a haze of gas, and not just his vision.

John.

Jack slowly turned his head, where John sat slumped in the driver's seat of Ianto's car. His skin was already ashen, and Jack choked on another gasp of air. Lowering his eyes, Jack carefully reached over to take the keys out, to stop the engine.

Because there was no point, anymore.

Jack threw open the passenger door, but didn't get out. He stayed where he was, still breathing in the tainted air. Daring it – willing it, even – to kill him. Again. It was stupid, really. All that would happen is that Jack would waste more time, leave John there for a little longer. And keep Ianto waiting, Jack suddenly remembered.

He stiffly clambered out of the car. The SUV was outside – hell, how was he supposed to get that home, as well as Ianto's car? As well as... as John? Firmly setting his jaw, Jack clenched his fists and went to the SUV. He hesitated for a second, then pulled himself into the driver's seat to attach the coms-link headset. Took a breath of clean air, then pressed the button.

"Ianto? You there?" His voice was steady.

"Jack? What's going on? Did you find John?" Ianto's welsh vowels curled around his words, and Jack swallowed a lump.

"Yeah." He couldn't say anymore. How could he tell Ianto that the man had committed suicide, in Ianto's own car?

"Okay. So, you're both... on your way back, then?" Ianto's voice was uncertain, as if he could sense something was wrong.

"Ianto, I need –" he broke off and cursed inwardly. He had to keep it together – he was their leader, damn it. "I need you to get a cab here. As skilled as I am, I don't think I can drive two cars at once."

"Jack, what's going on?" Ianto ignored Jack's pitiful attempt to joke and repeated the question, anxiety lacing his voice.

"Just get here as soon as you can," Jack answered flatly.

A missed beat.

"See you soon," the quiet reply came. Jack flicked off the coms-link and closed his eyes, leaned back into the seat, letting the silence wrap around his heart.

There had been something about John that had just hit a nerve within Jack. Hit it, connected with it. It was obvious, really – John was a traditional salesman, an honest, hardworking man. In a way... he reminded Jack of himself, of his past. Call it nostalgia.

A man who didn't deserve this. Out of his time.

He really thought John would pull through this, though. Jack was sure that he'd recognised the same determination to survive in the man's eyes.

Perhaps it had been determination to die.

He could have stopped it – but he didn't. Should he have stopped it? Jack felt a lone tear escape down his face, and bit his lip to imprison any others.

Jack didn't know how long he sat there. After all, time often held little meaning for him on the best of days. A sudden tapping at the glass window beside him startled him out of his lethargy, and he turned to see Ianto standing next to the SUV. Jack avoided Ianto's gaze, and swung himself out of the vehicle.

"Sorry about the cab. I'll make sure Torchwood reimburses you," Jack said haltingly. Ianto continued to try and meet Jack's eyes, but allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up.

"Doesn't matter." A pause, a step closer. "Jack. Where's... where's John?" Ianto closed the SUV door behind Jack, and he felt a whisper of Ianto's hand on Jack's back, for a moment.

Jack swallowed.

"This way."

Jack strode half a step in front of Ianto, and rounded the corner of the building. His steps faltered slightly as they approached the garage, until finally Jack came to a stop, just outside of the garage. He didn't speak – he didn't have to.

The air was still gaseous... the smell was almost overwhelming. Jack swallowed down the taste of bile and reset his jaw. The sudden intake of breath from Ianto confirmed that he had figured it out, but Jack couldn't look at Ianto. It was Ianto's car, for god's sake.

Jack jumped when he felt something slide between his fingers. He looked down, and saw Ianto's hand in his. Ianto gave his hand a tiny squeeze, and Jack returned it, pressing harder to hide a tremor.

It was Ianto who moved first. He went to the driver's seat, and wordlessly, the two men lifted John out of the car. They laid him on the ground, Jack still avoiding Ianto's gaze, and Ianto fetched the SUV, backing it up to the garage. They then lifted John and carefully placed him in the boot. There was little dignity in it, but what else could they do? Jack tried not to think of all the weevils they had put in exactly the same space.

"I'm so sorry," Jack whispered, hand frozen in pulling the boot lid shut. Somehow, he couldn't quite find the strength to pull it down any further. Another jump as Ianto covered Jack's hand with his own, and together, they shut the boot.

"I'll drive your car back to the Hub," Jack told him, already turning away. "You shouldn't have to."

"Neither should you," Ianto's voice called out behind him. Jack didn't mean to ignore him, not really, but somehow, his voice refused to work anymore.

_Don't let me drive the car Ianto._

"Sir!" The concern in Ianto's voice was evident, but Jack didn't stop. Wrenched open the car door, blocking all thought, and roughly sat down, slamming the door behind him. He watched in the side mirror as Ianto ran his hand through his hair before getting into the SUV.

He had to stay strong.

Jack was able to slip into a state of detachment on the drive back to the Hub. He concentrated on driving, and his thoughts were blissfully blank. It was something he'd learnt to do, to force himself to do. The windows were wound down, to get rid of the gas, so the night air whipped around his face. It was... numbing.

Perhaps it wasn't healthy. But it made it just bearable.

It was ten times worse, getting John's body into the Hub, than getting any weevil or alien in. Jack didn't want to think about the body disposal – Torchwood's burden. But they had to. At least the rest of the team had already left for the night. Finally, some luck.

"Ianto, you – you can head home now," Jack fixed a steely gaze on the younger man. They had moved in silence up until now, with Jack leading the way out of the morgue, up into his office. And Ianto had followed. No words.

"I'll just finish up the paperwork –"

"Go home," Jack gritted his teeth. He couldn't do this! It was too difficult.

"But I need –"

"Damn it, Ianto!" Jack bit out, fist suddenly clenching the back of his chair. The desk sat between them – Jack couldn't decide if it was too much distance or not enough.

Ianto just stared at him – not judging, not angry... Jack dismissed the sympathy in his eyes, and focused on taking a deep breath.

"Jack. I'm going to finish John's paperwork. I don't have to be... in your office with you, but –" Ianto's voice was hushed, his eyes finally lowering. "– I'm not leaving you alone in the Hub right now."

Jack closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping the tiniest bit.

"Fine."

There was no more fight in him. There was no more point in fighting, really.

"I'll be in Archives, if you need me," Ianto's voice came from a lot closer this time, and Jack opened his eyes. Ianto had half-rounded the desk, but had stopped a few feet away from Jack. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to close the space between them or not.

_Don't leave me Ianto._

"I won't," Jack forced a short smile, and sat down at his desk. "I have a lot of work to do, so..."

_Please stay_.

"Of course," Ianto inclined his head, and turned. He hesitated ever so slightly in the doorway, because sweeping away, taking the warmth with him.

Jack let out a long breath, and covered his face with his hands. It was so gruelling, this mask that he had to wear. Sometimes, he managed to convince himself that it was better, that he didn't need it – sometimes, he forgot all he'd been through.

And then something like this happened – and he was forced to slip right back into the facade.

And every time, it got harder to replace.

He needed a drink.

Jack threw his coat off and crossed the room to retrieve his whiskey from a cabinet. He rarely drank – it was no secret. Just something else that didn't have a point. Pouring a measure into a glass, Jack swirled it around slowly, before tipping the whole lot down his throat. Burned through the numbness, and left behind a different numbness – just what he needed.

He poured another.

The last time he'd drank was... Estelle. Another death he could have prevented. It was so ironic – truthfully – how death seemed to cling to his every step – and yet, he himself could never die. Payback.

Holding up yet another shot of whiskey, Jack stared through the murky liquid, just able to make out his empty doorway. Ianto hadn't come back – maybe he went home after all. He couldn't bring himself to wrench his eyes away. Couldn't stop himself hoping. But – no. It was for the best. He wouldn't let Ianto see him like this – he couldn't.

Could he?

Jack shook his head, hands trembling as he brought the glass to his lips. He obviously was fated to be alone, so why should he be allowed to call Ianto back? Determined to ignore the tears now sliding down his cheeks, Jack let the burning sensation of the whiskey distract him. He shuddered and dropped the glass heavily onto his desk, hand brushing against something as he did so. His cellphone.

He couldn't...

He was certain that Ianto had left the Hub already... he wouldn't want to be disturbed.

Jack bit his cheek hard and grasped the phone with his fingers.

To hell with it.

Jack quickly pressed the call button before he changed his mind, and listened to the phone ring shrilly in his ear. An agonising wait, probably only a few seconds, but a few seconds too long for Jack.

"Hello?" The familiar welsh voice filtered into Jack, and he lent back in his chair in sudden relief. "Is that you Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Er, not that I don't want to hear from you, but why are you _ringing_ me? Why didn't you just use the coms-link?"

"... what do you mean?" The alcohol Jack had consumed might have made him a little slow, but really – how could Ianto use the coms-link if he was at home?

"You know, the coms-link. There's plenty of headsets lying around here in the Archives."

A wave rushed through Jack, and he almost laughed.

"You're still here."

"Of course I am, Jack," Ianto's voice was warm, and Jack clutched the phone a little closer. "Where else would I be?"

"I... thought you'd gone home after all," Jack mumbled, now feeling a bit sheepish. Great. Perhaps this hadn't been the best idea.

"No. Listen... did you need something? A coffee, maybe?"

Jack closed his eyes, letting an ominous tiredness push on him from above. Not that he often slept, either, but this was a different sort of tiredness. Tired of death... tired of life.

"Yeah. That would be good, thanks Ianto."

There must have been something in his tone, because the younger man didn't reply straight away.

"It wasn't your fault, Jack," he finally did say, softly, as if anything else would break the moment – break Jack.

"Yeah," Jack breathed, opening his eyes and rubbing them furiously. He forced himself to sit up straight, and as he did so, felt something sharp digging into his stomach.

His gun.

"I'll be up soon then," Ianto was saying, but Jack hardly heard. He hung up the phone, heart rate abruptly amplified and quick.

John'd had a choice. And even though Jack didn't have the same _sort_ of choice – he still did have a choice.

Jack pulled his Webley gun from his belt, and smoothed his fingers along the barrel, trailing to the trigger. This would give him... a few minutes at least. Maybe longer if he got the aim right. A few minutes without this pain, a few minutes of... nothing.

Slowly raising the gun, Jack allowed the barrel to bite into the side of his head, hand completely steady. It would hurt – Jack knew that. But only for a second, and then he was plunged into the darkness, where he would feel nothing at all.

The cold metal was already making him feel better – or maybe that was the alcohol seeping into effect.

Whichever.

Jack closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

* * *

_It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now  
Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now  
And I don't know how I can do without  
I just need you now_

Ianto hadn't really been surprised by Jack's sudden hang up – it was obvious that he blamed himself for John's death, and didn't want to hear otherwise. Stubborn git, Ianto smiled sadly. He laid down the files he'd been holding on a desk, clipping them neatly together. He could finish these later.

Right now, Jack needed him, even if he wouldn't admit it.

He strode swiftly up the stairs and to the coffee machine, expertly starting it quickly. His coffee usually seemed to make Jack feel better. And his company, too. Jack had been there for him, after... after their trip to the countryside. It was time that he paid him back – he wanted to do the same for him. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but Ianto wanted to feel needed, every once in a while.

Filling up Jack's mug with the steaming coffee, Ianto took a step back, and turned to leave the kitchen. He stopped a second later, deciding that he'd add some chocolate sprinkles – chocolate always helped too. He then straightened his tie automatically, and ascended the stairs to Jack's office. On reaching the top of the stairs, he smiled softly, and swept into the room –

– and felt his heart leap straight into his throat. The mug of coffee slipped from his fingers with a shattering clash, but Ianto didn't notice.

Jack had his own gun to his head, eyes closed – about to pull the bloody trigger.

"Jack!" Ianto heard himself bellow, his voice breaking as he threw himself across the room. It was no use – how could Jack not have heard? – Ianto wasn't going to make it. Jack's fingers began flexing, millimetre by millimetre, closing around the trigger. Ianto flung his arms out wildly, and closed his eyes as he heard, and almost felt, the bullet release itself from the gun.

An unexpected noise. Breaking glass? Ianto ripped his eyes open and for a moment, couldn't absorb what he was seeing. Jack's blue eyes, red rimmed, stared right back at him, an expression of shock etched into his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jack spluttered, his eyes wide, gun still in a death grip in his hand. Ianto let out a rushing breath.

"You – you were going to shoot yourself," he said, as if to himself, and turned his head. The glass pane in Jack's office wall had shattered – it seemed that Ianto had knocked Jack's hand backwards, behind his head, so the shot had went wide and hit the glass.

"What the hell were you playing at!" Jack yelled this time, grabbing Ianto by his neck collar, so that his whole body was jerked forward. Ianto hadn't quite regained his balance from his half-dive across Jack's office, so this pulled him right into Jack's lap.

"I –"

"Damn it, Ianto!" Jack said for the second time that night, this time more angrily than the first – but somehow, Ianto could feel that it wasn't really _him_ that Jack was angry at.

"Jack! Please – put the gun down, Jack!" Ianto found his voice again, fighting past his shaking tone.

"Why does it even matter?" Jack roared in Ianto's face, their gazes padlocked together. "I can't die! I'll just come back again anyway – what difference does it make!"

"Jack –" Ianto choked out, reaching out to Jack and placing his hands on either side of Jack's neck. He stroked one thumb over Jack's jaw-line, watching stray tears fall. Jack took a shuddering breath and let go of Ianto's collar, the other hand still holding his gun. He inched his hand up to cup Ianto's chin, a flash of confusion crossing his face.

"You're – you're crying," Jack said, voice now only just audible, a shocking contrast to the previous yelling. Ianto realised, with a jolt, that Jack was right – and he swallowed.

"It makes a difference to me," Ianto replied quietly, continuing to hold their gaze evenly. Jack's lips parted, and Ianto could almost see the information being processed. All of the energy seemed to evaporate from Jack at once, and the gun clattered out of his limp fingers. Jack bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact, and Ianto dragged him into a desperate hold.

Jack shivered in Ianto's embrace, face in his neck, hands curling balls of Ianto's perfectly ironed shirt. Ianto held Jack so tightly it was amazing that they both could still breathe, but he didn't care about breathing, or ironed shirts. All he cared about was Jack.

Ianto didn't know how long they stayed there – for as long as Jack needed. Rubbing measured circles on the back of Jack's neck with his thumb. Ianto felt Jack's lips move against his own neck as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Ianto."

"It's alright," Ianto pressed his lips lightly against Jack's shoulder in a kiss. "You're alright."

"I – I didn't think."

"It's not your fault." Ianto felt Jack's chest tighten against his, and he gripped Jack closer. "Death is... part of life. There was nothing you could have done – _should_ have done – in the end."

"It just hurts, Ianto." Jack's breath touched Ianto's skin, and he bit his lip against a single tear.

"_The stream will cease to flow;  
The wind will cease to blow;  
The clouds will cease to fleet;  
The heart will cease to beat._"

Ianto quoted, still caressing Jack's neck.

"_For all things must die,_" Jack finished with a whisper. "Except... me."

Ianto was silent for a moment. How could he possibly comfort a man with such a burden – a thousand lifetimes' worth of burdens?

"If you could die... I never would have met you."

Jack made a funny noise, half laugh and half sob. A piece of Ianto's heart crumpled.

"And you'd be better off for it."

Ianto suddenly wrenched his head up from Jack's shoulder, eyes blazing fiercely.

"Don't you ever say that, Jack Harkness. You – you've saved me."

Jack didn't answer, but his eyes said it all. _Who will save me?_ Ianto firmly but gently caught Jack's last tear with his thumb, and didn't waste another second in colliding their lips, moulding them into one. All the things they couldn't say, all the things there were no words for... fused into a surrendering kiss. Jack's hands were running through Ianto's hair, finally responding. _Truly _coming back to life.

After an eternity, Jack leant back to look into Ianto's eyes, and smiled – a small smile, but it was genuinely there.

"Ianto..."

Ianto shook his head imperceptibly and smiled softly back.

"It's late. Let's go to bed."

Ianto lifted himself off Jack's lap, fingers gravitating into Jack's hand, and tugged the other man to his feet. He straightened Jack's collar, eliciting a silent chuckle from Jack, and allowed his fingers to linger on Jack's chest.

"I'll just be a minute up here, you go on down to your quarters. I won't be long," Ianto promised, carefully holding his gaze.

Jack nodded. The darkness still cast a shadow over his face – but that's all it was, for now. A shadow. And it was Ianto's job to bring the light back. Because otherwise, all Jack has was darkness.

_I'm here for you Jack._

"I'll be waiting," Jack said, with a slight eyebrow raise and flick of the corner of his mouth. That was a good sign. Ianto grinned, and watched as Jack went and lowered himself down his porthole.

Ianto let out a deep breath, and rubbed his temple.

There was still glass showered over the floor. He'd have to find the bullet too. And there was spilt coffee over by the doorway – he'd broken Jack's favourite mug. Ianto couldn't even be bothered to curse. This was nothing, only a small addition to the bigger mess that was his car.

His searching eyes met Jack's Webley gun lying next to the desk, and Ianto forced himself to bend down and pick it up. Ran his fingers over the barrel, flicked the safety back on.

The others had told him that he'd survived Lisa's electrifying attack, when he shouldn't have. Files in the Archives often suggested that he'd been dealt mortal wounds, only to bounce right back. And then – Ianto had seen it himself, one night when they'd gone weevil hunting together. The weevil had jumped right on top of Jack, ripped into his neck before Ianto could get his stun gun out.

He thought he'd been too late. After stunning the weevil, Ianto had fallen to his knees beside Jack, grabbing his hand and feeling for a pulse. Jack, seeming incredible to Ianto at the time, had grinned and used his last, ragged breath to say 'I'm going to be fine' before going limp. Right in Ianto's arms. The shock of it alone had tied Ianto to the spot, gripping Jack's hand.

And then Jack had gasped back into life, his other arm floundering for contact. Ianto had enveloped Jack in his arms and held him as Jack calmed his breathing.

Jack couldn't die. He knew that.

Didn't mean that Ianto liked Jack dying. Lying next to a stinking weevil, with Jack in his hold, he had seen _that look_ in Jack's eyes, when he'd taken his first breath again. Haunted, empty – like for a nano-second, he didn't know what he was coming back to.

And since then, Ianto had vowed never to let Jack wake up alone again. Because Jack had to remember what he was coming back for – he _had_ to.

Ianto wouldn't let him forget.

Swallowing, Ianto neatly placed Jack's gun in the top drawer of his desk, and surveyed the mess again.

To hell with it.

The mess could wait, for once. For once, there was something far more important.

Ianto crossed the room to Jack's porthole, and climbed down the ladder into Jack's quarters. Jack was shirtless, only in his boxers, sitting on the edge of his bed. His arms were loosely hung around himself, and Ianto could still see a hint of helplessness there.

He removed his own jacket, shirt, singlet, trousers... until he was just in boxers, like Jack. He offered Jack a reassuring smile, which Jack returned, and together, they settled under the blankets of Jack's bed. It was a cozy fit, but neither minded. Ianto slung his arm around Jack and tightly pressed the man to his chest. He shuffled his chin over to rest on Jack's shoulder, and kissed the skin there lightly.

Sometimes, Jack didn't have to be their strong leader.

* * *

The comforting embrace – and _warmth_, god – of Ianto was actually succeeding in lulling Jack into some sort of sleep. A rare occurrence.

"Ianto?" Jack half-yawned, wanting to make sure he said it before he really did fall asleep. Okay, so maybe it was the whiskey too. Damn.

"Mmm?" Ianto's lips moved slightly against his shoulder, and Jack smiled slowly. A ghost of Ianto's breath crept over his neck, and Jack didn't mind at all.

"Thank you, for this. I needed it. I needed... you."

Ianto kissed Jack's skin again, and Jack took Ianto's hand to secure his hold around Jack even more tightly.

"I know."

* * *

**-End. **Well that was fun to write! Both parts :) Hope you enjoyed it too!


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